S>W>Cape Trip Report ( part 1 ).

[Mechanic-AL]

A few years ago I bumped into an old mate in the streets of Hobart who I hadn’t seen for about 20 years. In the brief conversation we had I discovered that Peter, his brother Bruce and another mate were about to tackle the South Coast Track. I told him I had done the same walk about 10 years ago. We swapped some contact details and continued on our separate ways. Quite by suprise Peter contacted me last winter to let me know that the boys had completed the walk. And they had obviously enjoyed their time down there as they had set their sights on the Southwest Cape Circuit this summer. He was getting in touch to see if I would be interested in joining them. There was no way I was going to miss out on this one! My most recent walks had all been in the highlands and I had been beginning to think it was time to get back to the coast so his call couldn’t have come at a better time. And what a way to get back to the coast !

Flights were booked , holidays were scammed and Febuary 13th was circled as our departure date. We should have realized Hobart Regatta Day would have a higher than average chance of being a crappy day and true to form strong winds from the west and intermittent rain squalls delayed our morning flight to Melaleuca until 1pm. We had another false start when it was discovered that an engine cowling clip was undone as we taxied out to the run way. After returning to the hanger and putting things right the pilot seemed to be having all sorts of difficulty coaxing the port engine back to life. It choked and coughed and finally spluttered back to life and we got airborne closer to 2pm than 1. A great grey wall of low cloud stretched from one side of Storm Bay to the other and it swallowed us whole as we bucked and bounced our way southward. Miraculously the clouds opened up again as we swung right over the coast at South Cape Bay and we were treated to dark brooding views of Matsuyker Is and the south coast. Our flight path into Melaleuca between the Bathurst Range and the New Harbour Range was a natural wind tunnel as we crabbed and bucked our way north to the airstrip. It had been anything but a ‘joy’ flight and after nearly over shooting the run way on landing I was more than happy to be out of that beer can with wings and on the boardwalk heading south again! The dark clouds to the south looked ominous as we made our way towards the coast but suprisingly we were still dry as we left the boardwalk and swung to the west of the New Harbour Range. Due to our delayed start the pace was fairly quick as we marched around the undulating foot hills of the Range. New Harbour soon came into view and for about the first time ever I was on the pace suggested by John Chapman. We waded the small creek at the eastern end of the beach and found our way up to the sheltered camp in the forest behind the middle of the beach. I was dissapointed our first day had been cut short but went to bed looking forward to the days that lay ahead. The gloomy grey skies persisted the next morning but a relaxed start was the order of the day after the previous afternoons rushed schedule. We began the walk to Hidden Bay through fairly dense forest but the track was obviously well used and easy to follow. The forest soon gave way to coastal scrub as we gained elevation and the weather was showing signs of improving.

The views back to New Harbour and Cox’s Bluff were awesome. We eventually made our way around a low scrubby ridge and found our way onto the beach via a wide opening in the dunes at the eastern end of the bay. We had made good time and despite the relatively early hour I would have been happy to stay for the night and explore the area a bit more. After a very relaxing lunch break it was decided to stick with our original plans and move on to Ketcham Bay. The track to the west was quite open and elevated affording views of Middle Buff directly below us, a myriad of offshore islands and Telopea Point stretching towards the southern horizon. After weaving our way through a group of ancient looking rock turrets Ketcham Bay came into view below us. The beach looked tantalizingly close but proved to be much further away than it appeared. After one final steep descent we stepped out onto the sand. Since leaving New Harbour the wind had steadily backed around to the north and the offshore breeze had given the waves a neatly groomed appearance as they filed in to the bay before cracking into the sand banks. A number of small rocky islands topped with green vegetation dotted the beach and gave the scene a very “ Jack Sparrow’ sort of feel and I half expected an old pirate ship to come billowing around Ketcham Island. The sheltered little campsite tucked away at the western end of the beach is just one of those beautiful little gems that invites you in with open arms. It would be hard to imagine a more perfect place to camp. After putting up our travelling circus show for the night we hit the icy waters of the southern ocean for a quick dip. The sun was shining and the afternoon was filled in with a bit more exploring, a bit of snoozing and just taking it all in. It was a perfect day to be on the south coast. I was up at around 5.30 the next morning to answer the call of nature and was suprised by the spectacle of bright colours that filled the dawn skies when I stuck my head outside the tent. A Fishing boat had moored in the lee of the Amy Range overnight and one of the crew was zipping across the bay by himself in a tinnie.

I was envious of his ability to explore the coast with ease as he slipped out of view behind Ketcham Island. With only a small distance to cover to Wilson Bight it was another lazy start. The condition of the track to that point had been pretty good with none of the big muddy blowouts of the South Coast Track and the walking had been easier than expected. I’m sure if sections of this track were subject to the same sort of traffic that the SC Track had to cope with it would fall apart pretty quickly. Just when I was beginning to think it was all just a ‘walk in the park’ we began to work our way around the Amy Range and the general condition of the track began to deteriorate with more tree roots to be negotiated and a bit thicker scrub to be pushed through. The walk over the Amy Range was through a beautiful myrtle forest and I was finally beginning to feel like we were getting ‘out there ‘. The tea tree on the eastern side of the range towards the top was quite thick and tangled and due to the steep grade took a bit of effort to get through. It cleared enough for one last view to the east before we crested the range and began descending back into light forest on the west. The track down the western flank of the Amy Range was easy to follow and through beautiful forest. The crossing of this range was for me the most enjoyable section of all we had done to that point. We were still in the shade of the forest when we stopped for some lunch beside an small creek and it was nice and cool but as soon as we hit the track again we came out into the open and it felt like the temperature rose about 10 degrees in 2 minutes. We had a few glimpses of Wilsons Bight as we walked along and it was around here we got our first fleeting glimpses of the Southwest Cape Range and Mt Karamu. The track continued down to the eastern end of the beach and as we strolled out onto the sand the emerald green waters framed by the dramatic backdrop of the range looked amazing. Unfortunately the track to the beach had lead through a small campsite that was a junkyard of fishing boat debris. There can be no doubt that 90% of this rope, plastic and floats has come from fishermen and it’s so sad to see that some of the people who rely on the ocean for an income have such little respect for it. Talk about $#!+ing in your own nest !

Towards the middle of the beach a small rocky outcrop protruded out into the water. It was another beautiful day with a small swell and rock hopping around this obstacle was pretty easy. With higher tides and a bit more swell I would imagine this outcrop could become a pretty serious place to pass. As with all the beaches along the coast Wilson Bight had an option of more than 1 campsite. As I climbed a small set of steps to check out the most western camp I had the sensation of having been bitten on the leg by something and beat a hasty retreat to the safety of the sands. After a closer inspection I realized I had brushed past some stinging nettles conveniently over hanging the steps. Peter had unwittingly done the same thing just ahead of me and we both suffered the effects well into the afternoon. We decided to head back to a smaller campsite behind the dune at the middle of the beach. Although our chosen site was fairly cramped it was well sheltered. A good thing considering the weather was finally showing signs of packing it in. A few showers set in after dinner and it began to look bleak on the horizon. The wind out to sea looked like it was screaming around the South West Cape and I climbed into bed wondering what the next day would bring. It occurred to me sometime during the evening that with the exception of anybody in Anatartica and a small hand full of people on the offshore islands that Peter,Bruce and myself must be among the most southerly people on the whole continent that night.

[Suz]

Looks bewt!